


Let's Fly Away

by Unclesteeb



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Redwing is petty, Sam Can Talk to Birds, Sam-Centric, Samtember
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 02:58:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8127745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unclesteeb/pseuds/Unclesteeb
Summary: "If I could fly, I could go anywhere. I could do anything.”Sam’s mom gives his shoulder a gentle pat. “You can in your own way.”“How?”“Sammy, all you have to do to be as free as a bird is to just do the right thing.”Sam furrows his brow. “What does that mean?”“Well,” Sam's mom starts. “The right thing is doing nice things for people. It's treating everyone how you would want to be treated. It's going out of your way to help people and love them, even if they're not nice to you at first or at all. People deserve love, and I know you have plenty to give.” She leans down to give his cheek a kiss. “All you have to do to find your wings and fly free is to just do what you feel is right. You have a beautiful heart, Sam. I know you'll use it the right way. Then you'll fly.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> For Sam week!!
> 
> Thank you to the lovely[ Yawpkasti ](http://yawpkatsi.tumblr.com) for creating the [ most amazing art ](http://yawpkatsi.tumblr.com/post/150880052407/samtember-2016-lets-fly-away-if-i-could-fly-i)for this fic!!!!

The first time it happens, Sam's six years old.

**Help! Help!**

It's just a faint sound in Sam’s ears. He's playing in the sandbox at the park with his sister. 

“Did you hear that?” He asks Sarah quietly.

She looks up at him from the castle she's building, “Hear what?”

Sam might be little, but even he knows he's not supposed hearing things that no one else can hear. He shrugs and goes back to digging in the sand with his red shovel. He's trying to build a moat for Sarah's castle.

He hears it again. **Help! Help!**

“Okay,” Sam says, dropping his shovel. “Did you hear it that time?”

Sarah looks completely confused, “What?”

Sam sighs. Sarah's only four, so she doesn't know yet that when you hear someone asking for help you have to go try and help them. That's what Captain America would do anyway. Sam’s teacher told him last week that Captain America was the bravest guy ever and that Sam can pretend to be like him when he's scared. So Sam gets up, makes sure his mom is still busy reading and then lifts his chin as high as it will go and marches down the asphalt path next to the sidewalk to try and find whoever’s calling for him.

Sam hears the little voice again when he gets closer to a grove of trees down by the swing set and monkey bars. It's louder this time so he knows he's getting close. He’s at the edge of the trees when he hears it again.

**Help! Help!**

The voice is so loud Sam looks down. That's when he sees the baby bird trying its best to flutter its wings and fly back up to its nest. 

Sam whips his head around to look for someone, a person. There's no way that this bird was talking to him, is there? Sam decides to try and talk back.

_Were you talking to me?_

**Anyone! Help me get back up there! I fell down!**

_Okay. I can help you!_

Sam picks up the bird carefully, cupping it in his hands. He has to stand on his tippy toes to reach the nest, but does and slides the baby bird into it.

**Thank you, little boy. My momma will be so happy I am okay when she comes back from getting food.**

_You're welcome,_ Sam tells the bird, because even though this is insanely weird his mommy would be mad at him if he forgot his manners. The bird seems to be fine after that, so Sam walks back to the sandbox to help Sarah build her castle some more. 

He thinks about mentioning his new bird friend for a while before he finally says, “Sarah I just talked to a bird.”

Sarah scrunches her face at him, “If you keep lying I'm telling Mommy.”

“I'm not-” Sam starts, but then reconsiders. Who can talk to a bird anyway? Maybe he was daydreaming or something. His mommy did tell always tell him that he had a big imagination.

 

Sam has a lot of friends at school. He gets along with almost everyone in his class, except for Johnny and Craig. Johnny and Craig are too tall and mean if you ask Sam. They spend their time after school tripping their classmates and stealing their lunch money. Earlier today they cornered Sam in the hallway while Sam was walking to lunch. 

Sam's mommy knew there was something wrong with him as soon as he came in the front door. She wrapped her arms around him so, so tightly and gave him a kiss on the cheek. 

“What's wrong baby?” She asks him. 

“Nothin’” Sam mumbles, then stuffs his head into her shirt harder.

She rubs his back up and down, “Did something happen at school?”

Sam tries to open his mouth and say no but the thought of lying makes him want to cry as much as telling the truth does, so he just shakes his head and bites on his lip to keep from crying because Sam's a big boy now. 

“Baby…”

Sam starts crying now into her shirt. He can't stop himself. “Johnny and Craig m-made fun of me and t-t-took my lunch money. I didn't W-want to tell you because I didn't eat and I didn't want you to be m-m-mad at me!”

“Oh honey.” Sam’s mommy says, rubbing his hair and rocking him back and forth softly. “Those boys are not nice. They'll learn eventually that what they do to their friends is wrong.”

Sam just sniffles.

“Let’s eat dinner now, okay? Hey, do you know what else we can do? Tomorrow we can go to the a special bird house with your daddy and Sarah. Maybe we can even see some of the birds that you like reading books about so much. Tell me what they’re called again.”

Sam stops crying long enough to tell her, “A falcon.”

“Oh! That's right! A falcon! I bet we could even find a falcon at this special bird house. Do you think we can?”

Sam stops crying fully and thinks. That would really be something if they could! He starts to smile and pulls back from his mom to wipe his eyes. “I think we can!” 

 

Sam's mom and dad take him to what's called a ‘Bird Conservatory’ the next day. There Sam gets to see like, a hundred birds! He even tries to talk to a few with no luck. Some of the birds turn their heads away from him when he tries to say hello, some don't respond at all. Sam’s mood doesn't really improve until they get to the section with the Falcons. There’s one in-particular that Sam thinks is beautiful. It's big with pretty brown feathers. It lands on a branch close to where Sam's standing with his mom. Sam’s mommy gives a little yelp and steps back. 

Sam just tilts his head at the falcon and says, _Hello!_

**Hello little boy** , the falcon replies to Sam’s surprise. 

Sam finds himself smiling. 

_You want to talk to me!_

**My friends have all told me you've been trying to talk to them all day. I wanted to say hello to the special boy that can talk to us.**

The falcon starts fluttering its wings like it wants to fly again, so Sam asks, _What’s it like to fly?_

**There's no better feeling, little boy. I hope someday you'll find wings of your own.** Then the falcon takes off and flies away.

Sam pouts a little at that. He was really enjoying their conversation. 

“What a beautiful bird!” Sam's mom says, awed by the sight in front of her.

Sam nods, but continues to pout. 

“What's the matter, baby?”

“I want to fly too.” 

Sam's mom comes up behind him and wraps her arms around his shoulders. “Where would you want to go?”

Sam shrugs, “Away from Johnny and Craig. Away from school sometimes. If I could fly, I could go anywhere. I could do anything.”

Sam’s mom gives his shoulder a gentle pat. “You can in your own way.”

“How?”

“Sammy, all you have to do to be as free as a bird is to just do the right thing.”

Sam furrows his brow. “What does that mean?”

“Well,” Sam's mom starts. “The right thing is doing nice things for people. It's treating everyone how you would want to be treated. It's going out of your way to help people and love them, even if they're not nice to you at first or at all. People deserve love, and I know you have plenty to give.” She leans down to give his cheek a kiss. “All you have to do to find your wings and fly free is to just do what you feel is right. You have a beautiful heart, Sam. I know you'll use it the right way. Then you'll fly.”

***

So that's what Sam does. He goes through his life and does the right thing, even after his parents are killed, even after he joins the Air Force, even when it doesn't make him feel very free at all. Then Sam gets the greatest gift he could ever receive.

His own wings.

Then he really, honest to God flies. He soars across skies and over mountains and deserts. He extends his wings and takes off, whooping and hollering with pure, unadulterated joy. He takes flight and does the right thing and finally, finally thinks he knows what that falcon meant all those years ago. 

Then Riley falls.

Then Sam meets Steve Rogers and learns how to love flying all over again.

***

Sam finds Redwing, well, Redwing finds him 20 miles outside of Albuquerque. 

“Hey, look at that falcon!” Steve says, smiling. The said falcon is perched on top of the diner where they just had lunch. “The real thing is so much cuter than you are.”

Sam smiles, “Shut up.” Then he tries his hand on talking to the falcon. It's been awhile since he tried to talk to any birds. He's found that unless a bird is in danger, only he can initiate the conversation and not every bird can hear him. Some birds don't want to talk to him and just act like they can't. Sam figures it must be pretty weird for them and doesn't blame them.

_Hello_

**You can talk to us?**

_Yes I can. I can also fly._

The bird flutters his feathers and then takes off, only to land on Sam’s right shoulder.

“Whoa!” Steve shouts.

_I'm about to leave. Do you want to come with us? You might be able to help us._

Redwing just uses its beak to pick a piece of dust out of Sam’s hair in reply. 

Steve's not as surprised that Sam can talk to certain birds as Sam thought he would be. Steve just shrugs, points to his body and says, “I'm almost a hundred years old and can lift up a car with one arm.”

Maybe Sam shouldn't have doubted Steve at all.

***

 _Redwing quit it._ Redwing’s pecking lightly at his hair, trying to wake him up. It was a rough night for Sam, and he'd really like to sleep in a bit more.

**It's almost afternoon, Sam. Your friend is making food and you should eat.**

_He's not my friend._ Sam tells Redwing. It's not exactly a true statement, he actually really likes Bucky a lot- more than a lot, but Sam's not feeling too generous right now. It's been a year since everything with the accords happened. It's been six months since Bucky came back from Wakanda. It's been two weeks since Steve left to go try and patch up his friendship with Tony Stark and work it out so they can all go home. Redwing found Sam again about a month ago. He'd let Sam pet his feathers and cry all over him for hours. Redwing and his sister are all Sam has left. He can't talk to his sister right now, so seeing Redwing again filled a little spot inside Sam’s heart. 

It didn't make him feel better for long, unfortunately. Sam's been having a rough go of it since Steve freed him from The Raft. He hadn't been in there long, but had spent his time getting treated horribly. Sam spent a lot of time being angry that he did the right thing time and time again, just like his mom said, and ended up nothing but a caged animal anyway. The feeling passed a little when Steve found them a great house in the country, but still remains deep down. Now, he has good days and bad days. Today he doesn't feel so well and just wants Redwing to leave him alone so that he can sleep. He's been sleeping an awful lot lately. 

**You should eat** , Redwing nags.

_I want to sleep. Please leave._

Redwing gives an indignant squawk but leaves him alone, feathers ruffling as he flies off the bed.

Sam's just fallen asleep again when there's a knock at his door. “I'm not hungry.” He says in return.

“Uh, that's fine but your bird won't stop- hey ow- pecking me. He dragged me to your room by my pant leg. By the way, you owe me new pants. Can I come in?”

Sam sighs. Redwing is a persistent little thing when he wants to be. “Sure.”

Bucky comes in holding a tray of food that smells pretty good. He looks Sam up and down and honest to goodness blushes at the sight of him. It's only then when Sam realizes he hasn't put on a shirt yet. 

Sam pulls the covers up over his chest. “Uh, thanks.” 

Bucky gives him a sheepish smile, “Don't thank me, thank Redwing.” Bucky carefully sets down the tray of food onto Sam's bedside table and steps back. He's still blushing. Any other day Sam would be amused. 

Redwing surprises Bucky by hopping up onto his metal shoulder. “Hey, um, hi Redwing.”

Sam laughs a little at that, he can't help himself. “He likes you.”

“Well that's good because he really can hurt when he wants to. Maybe I should bring you breakfast every day to get on his good side.”

Sam smiles at Bucky. “That doesn't sound awful. I really would like it though if he could tone down the worry a little and let me get some sleep.”

Bucky gives him a grin that doesn't reach his eyes. He shoves his hands into his pockets. “He's not the only one who's worried. You haven't really left your room much since Steve left.”

Sam furrows his brow, “Yes I have.” He has, hasn't he? Maybe not as much as he did before. The friendship he has with Steve has been the steadying presence in Sam’s life for the past year. He's just a little bummed about his friend not being here, that’s all. Sam’s fine. He doesn't need anyone else’s concern. 

Bucky shrugs, Redwing hops off his shoulder. Bucky’s blush is finally gone. Sam sees nothing but concern on his face now. “Okay. Sure. Just….” He takes a big breath and lets it out,”Just let me make you breakfast, Sam.”

Sam gives a big sigh. This is Bucky trying to help the only way he knows how to. “Sure.”

Bucky smiles, “Great.”

Every morning from then on out Sam is woken up by Bucky holding a tray of food with Redwing on his shoulder. They spend their mornings in Sam's room, eating and talking and hanging out. It becomes the bright spot of Sam’s day. Waking up feels a little less hard when he's got Bucky and Redwing to look at when he opens his eyes.

After two weeks of his wake up calls, one morning Sam wakes up on his own. For the first time in months Sam wakes up feeling calm and refreshed. It's a strange feeling to have inside of him, and Sam can't say he minds. He pulls on a shirt and pads into the kitchen. Bucky will probably like seeing him up and about. He’ll probably smile at Sam all soft until his eyes crinkle up at the sides. When Bucky smiles at Sam like that Sam can't help but return it. He likes making Bucky smile. He tries not to read into it too much.

When he gets to the kitchen he doesn't see what he expected. Instead, he sees Bucky covered in goopy, sticky flour with Redwing perched on his shoulder picking the stuff out of his hair. 

“What happened to you?” Sam asks, he's already having to stifle a giggle. This morning is pretty darn good so far.

Bucky looks up at him, his eyes widen in shock for a brief moment before he seems to remember what Sam asked him. “It's his fault!” Bucky says, gesturing to Redwing.

“What did he do to you?” Sam asks, folding his arms across his chest.

“Well I was trying to make you cinnamon buns, but _someone_ decided I wasn't moving fast enough and pecked the living hell out of me until I ended up spilling them everywhere!”

Sam can't help it, he starts to laugh.

 _What did you do to poor Bucky?_ He asks Redwing.

**Bucky was taking too long to feed you. He deserved it.**

_Are you actually cleaning him or just pulling his hair?_

**A bit of both. This stuff tastes good.**

Sam laughs again, he wishes every day could start just like this one.

***

Of course, they don't. 

Sam has an awful nightmare where he watches Bucky shoot Rhodey out of the sky, then Steve, then Riley, and finally himself. He wakes up when it's still dark out, gasping and shaking.

 **Are you okay?** Redwing asks him from his perch. Sam must have woken him up.

 _I'm fine._ Sam says, lying. He’s not fine at all. 

**Sam, you’ll never fly completely free again until you let someone in.**

Sam pauses, because at what point did his bird get wiser than anyone else he knows? Then he figures that Redwing’s not just any bird, he’s Redwing. Sam’s never thought too much about it, but Redwing obviously just isn’t your run of the mill Falcon. He almost laughs out loud. He isn’t your average run of the mill Falcon either and if he was he wouldn’t be trapped in his own mind like this. He’s the one caging himself the most recently. 

_I said I’m fine._ Sam tells Redwing, just as Bucky throws open the door to his bedroom.

Bucky takes in Sam’s shivering, sweating appearance and sighs. “I thought something had happened to you.” Sam notices the sniper rifle in his metal arm. Bucky seems a little embarrassed by his over-preparedness and tucks the rifle behind his back before finally deciding to just put it down on the floor.

“Nothing happened. I’m fine.” Sam says nonchalantly, trying his best to get Bucky to leave. At the thought of Bucky walking back out his bedroom door, Sam’s pulse immediately spikes. He may act like he can barely stand the guy sometimes, but there’s something about Bucky’s gentle, gruff voice and careful mannerisms that always puts Sam at ease. In this moment Sam wants nothing more than for Bucky to scoop him up into his arms and cradle him there until Sam falls asleep again. 

Bucky’s eyes are soft and worried. “Are you sure?”

Sam wants nothing more than to say no, I need a friend right now but what comes out instead is, “Yup. I’m sure.”

It comes to both of their surprises when Redwing suddenly takes off from his perch and lands next to Bucky’s feet. He instantly starts pecking at Bucky’s feet and ankles, making him yelp and jump to get away from him. “Hey! Stop!” Bucky shouts. Redwing continues his assault until Bucky’s hopped himself over next to Sam’s bed. 

Sam glares at his bird, _I don’t want him to stay._

**Yes you do. You need him right now. Let him in so that you can be free again. Let someone take care of you. You need help.**

Sam swallows, then says, summoning up every ounce of courage he has left in him, “Can you stay with me here for awhile?”

Bucky gives him a little smile, “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Sam’s bed is pretty small so they have to squeeze together to fit at all. Bucky takes it upon himself to pull Sam close so that Sam’s head is pillowed on his chest. Sam feels Bucky’s warmth spread through him. He feels some of the fear and anxiety drain out of him. 

“This okay?” Bucky asks tentatively. 

“Yeah,” Sam says, “Yeah it really is.” 

***  
Sam’s got his head resting in Bucky’s lap as they watch some mindless romance movie on the TV. Bucky’s gently stroking his head, neck and shoulders with his right hand. When Bucky had held him close that night, the floodgates had opened for Sam. He hadn’t realized how badly he wanted someone close to him. He hadn’t thought about how good it feels to have someone hold him. It’s been way too long since he’s let anyone do so. Bucky’s been more than happy to wrap Sam up into his body whenever Sam has asked, and sometimes even when he couldn’t find the words to. 

“You know what sucks?” Sam says, out of the blue. Today he’s not having a terrible day. He actually feels pretty energetic, but the sad feeling has been replaced instead by bitterness. 

“What’s that?”

“When I was a kid I really wanted to fly, right? My mom told me that all I would have to do is just do the right thing and I would know freedom just like a bird.” He lets himself smile sadly at the memory. “Of course, she had no idea that I would eventually actually fly. But I still did the right thing. Every day I woke up and made choices that I believed in my heart were right. Do you know what happened anyway?”

“Hmm?” Bucky asks softly. He’s looking down at Sam with such a sweet expression. He’s always so interested in what Sam has to say. He’s always so damn interested in Sam. Sam can’t wrap his head around it. 

“I got put in a cage. One underneath the ocean. Then Steve got me out and I managed to cage myself again, this time just inside my mind. Redwing told me that I won’t be truly free again until I let someone help me.”

Bucky blinks. “Your bird told you that?”

“He’s not just a bird. I think he’s magical or something. I haven’t thought too much about it.”

Bucky shrugs, “Not the weirdest thing I’ve heard this month.” 

“Is that what you’re doing? Helping me?” 

Bucky’s hand rubbing at Sam’s shoulder pauses. “I know what it’s like, to feel like you’re imprisoned by your own mind. But… no. That’s not what I’m doing.”

Sam furrows his brow, but Bucky continues before he can say anything. “I’m not just helping you. I’m caring for you.” He takes a big, steadying breath. “I see how you always put yourself on the back burner, you’re like Steve that way. I watched you hold yourself together for him and for me when I was having a worse time. Then I saw how you just shrunk away when you were confident that I wasn’t going to fly off the handle and Steve left to go do whatever the hell he’s doing now. Sam, you deserve someone to care about you. You deserve someone to care _for_ you. I want to do that. That’s what I’m trying to do.”

Sam stares at Bucky, his face isn’t a bad thing to rest his eyes on. He tries to ignore how what Bucky told him turned his heart to mush. “You care about me?”

“Yeah, I do. A lot.” Bucky says, smiling. “You’re pretty great.” 

Sam finds himself returning Bucky’s smile. “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

Sam brings Bucky into his bed later that night. He lets Bucky wrap him up and pull him close. He lets Bucky gently kiss his forehead, then cups Bucky’s chin with his own hand and pulls Bucky’s lips to his again and again. 

“I’m going to care for you until you make me stop.” Bucky says after, smiling brightly.

Sam snorts, “Fine. Hold me until I fall asleep and make me blueberry pancakes in the morning.” 

“Okay,” Bucky says. He pulls Sam to his chest. “I think I will.”

***

“Redwing move out of the way, Jesus!” is the first thing Sam hears when he’s waking up. Bucky’s still got Sam wrapped up in his arms. “Come on, I have a present for him. Just let me in, please?” Steve pleads. 

Sam finds himself smiling at the mere sound of his friend’s voice. It’s been just about six weeks since Steve left. Sam’s missed him. He feels Bucky stirring beside him.

 _Let him in. You’re being mean._ Sam tells Redwing. 

**He didn’t bring me a present.** But Redwing lets him in anyway. 

Steve sees Sam and Bucky in bed together, and his eyes get huge. “Oh! Oh, sorry!” Steve says, turning bright red and trying his hardest to get his words out. 

Sam laughs. Bucky untangles himself from around Sam and sits up, “We’re just sleeping, Steve.” 

“Yeah, right. Well, uh. Hi Sam, Buck.” 

“I heard you had a present for me?” Sam asks. He’s trying to not get his hopes up. For all he knows Steve picked him up a magnet at a souvenir shop after him and Tony Stark screamed at each other to the point of no progress for a month and a half. 

Steve’s eyebrows go up and he seems to come back to himself a little, “I do! Two actually! I have one for you too, Buck.” He digs in his back pocket and throws two passports on the bed. “Congrats guys. We’re legal again.”

Sam’s heart beats wildly in his chest. He’s free! He’s finally free! He can go home. He can see his sister. He can-

“Did you get my wings?”

Steve smiles at him, “They’re in the living room.”

Sam whoops with joy and quickly jumps out of bed. He races to the living room. Just as he lays his first finger on his wingpack, he hears Bucky asking, “So where’s my guns?”

***

 _Are you ready?_ He asks Redwing. It’s been so damn long since he’s flown. Sam wonders if he’s ever been able to enjoy flying without being in danger. His chest feels light. His mind feels clear. It feels like everything's about to feel right again inside him. His fingers are shaking around his pack with excited energy. 

**I’m always ready to fly. You’ve been doing a good job, Sam.**

_I’m trying my best._ Sam says, shooting a look back to his friends. Steve and Bucky are sitting on a bench on the porch. Bucky blows him a kiss and winks at him. Steve elbows him and gives Sam a little wave. 

**You’ll admit I was right then, I knew you’d never fly freely again until you let someone care for you.**

_I’m just trying to do the right thing._

**Now you know that sometimes that sometimes letting the people that love you take care of you is just that.**

Sam smiles, then folds out his wings and fires up his jet pack. He starts running, hearing the wind picking up in his ears already. Then he takes off.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!
> 
> Follow me on [ tumblr ](unclesteeb.tumblr.com) and let's talk about Sam Wilson!


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